


Under Our Roof

by ZenaWA



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bisexual Derek Hale, Chef!Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale wears baseball caps, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gay Stiles Stilinski, Life as we know it (2010) AU, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Movie rewrite, POV Alternating, Restaurant owner!Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23459989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZenaWA/pseuds/ZenaWA
Summary: When Erica and Boyd made him one of their newborn daughter's godfathers, Stiles was so excited. He could spoil her, buy her gifts, and when she started crying, he could easily return her to her parents. It was the perfect balance. Little did he know his life would soon change - balancing a kid and a restaurant ownership would be challenging on its own, but he also has to make all of it work alongside the most infuriating person in the world - Derek Hale.Life as we know it (2010) AUI own nothing.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Jordan Parrish/Stiles Stilinski, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 15
Kudos: 100





	1. The Date

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm completely unable to write a plot on its own but I love writing, here's another movie AU that I turned into a Sterek fic.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are highly appreciated. 
> 
> English is not my first language so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me.

Stiles exited the bathroom with a towel tightly wrapped around his hips and walked to his closet.

It's been a long time since he went on a date and he wanted to make a good impression.

He stared at the closet for at least fifteen minutes until he decided on a crimson red shirt and black slacks. Then he studied himself in the mirror. Getting his hair under control was practically impossible, but he tried anyway.

A quick glance at the clock told him he had little over a quarter of an hour before his date would get there.

He put on his shoes, still with two minutes to spare. He sat on the couch and reached for his phone.

No messages.

It was fine. Not everyone was always on time.

After another fifteen minutes, he got annoyed. He considered calling his date, but in the end decided against it. Instead, he took out his notebook and read the news.

Signing, he thought about changing back into his comfortable sweatpants and T-shirt when the doorbell rang.

"Oh," he let out a breath and stood up. "Okay."

When he opened the door, there stood a tall, muscular man dressed in a black leather jacket and dark blue jeans. His hands were tucked in the pockets of the jacket, and he had a baseball cap on his head.

"Stiles," he said, giving him a once-over.

"Derek." Stiles leaned against the door frame, folding his arms.

"Am I late?"

"Uhm," he looked over his shoulder at the clock in the kitchen. "Just an hour. But, you know, I finished getting ready, and Erica said I should expect you to show up a little late, and-"

"Boys said you'd probably say something."

"Oh, did he?" Stiles let out a loud cackle. "So, should we go?"

"Yeah, yeah," Derek smiled at him. "Let's go."

"Yeah, let's get some dinner, I'm super hungry." He locked the door to his apartment. "It's been like an hour."

"So, I hear you just moved here," Stiles desperately tried to create a conversation as they walked outside his apartment building.

"Yep."

_Here's to making an engaging dialogue._

"How long have you knows Boyd for?" Stiles was nothing if not resilient.

"High school."

"Oh, wow. I've known Erica since college. We had almost all of the classes together." He stopped at the curb. "Where's your car?"

"Right here," Derek gestured his hand towards a sleek black Camaro parked on the side of the road.

Stiles skeptically looked at him. "You want me to get in this?"

The other man glanced at him, visibly confused. "Yeah?"

"No," Stiles said firmly. "Not unless you get me like a helmet, a protective pad and a full-body armor."

"You seriously won't get into my car?"

"No. I'm terrified of confined spaces." He took his car keys out of his pocket. "I'll drive. My car is right here."

As soon as Derek laid his eyes on his baby-blue jeep, his face expression turned annoyed. "You refuse to get into my Camaro, but you don't have a problem getting into this rusty piece of crap?"

"Hey!" Stiles exclaimed, angrily pointing his finger at the other man. "Do not insult my baby!"

While he was sitting down into the driver seat, he could see Derek mouthing ' _a baby_ ' in surprise. He watched as the other man begrudgingly lowered himself into the seat next to him, and shut the door with a loud thud.

"All right, so, where shall we go?"

Stiles smiled. Food, he could at least look forward to the food. "Well, where did you make the reservation?" Derek stared at him as if he grew a second head. "That you said you were gonna make." Stiles slowly said. "You didn't make it, did you?"

"I said that?"

"It's cool," he laughed nervously. "Whatever."

Derek nodded. "Yeah, it's cool. We can go anywhere, I don't care. You can pick it."

"Okay," Stiles thought for a second. "How about Café Five. Have you ever been there?"

"Sounds good."

"Awesome," Stiles reached for the key in the ignition. "My friend from culinary school is the-"

He was stopped by a beeping sound coming from Derek's pocket.

The other man just waved his hand. "It's just my cell phone."

"I figured. You can answer it if you-"

"No, no, it'll go to the voicemail."

But the ringing didn't stop. 

"Yeah, well, as I was just saying, my friend from culinary school is actually the, uhm." He let out a breath in resignation, because the phone didn't seem to be stopping any time soon. "You know what? Go ahead, just answer it, it's fine. It's all right, I can wait."

"Yeah, it's a little too loud," Derek chuckled as he took the phone out of his pocket. "Hey, you."

Stiles leaned his forehead against the window and looked at the street.

"Well, you know me, always in the middle of something. Yeah, okay, yeah. Eleven? Yeah. You know what?" He felt Derek's eyes drifting toward him. "Why don't we make it ten-thirty? All right, see you later. Okay. Bye."

Stiles turned his head back to him, his eyebrows raised.

"I'm sorry," Derek said apologetically. "It's a... It's a sick friend."

"You know, we don't have to do this," Stiles said after a few seconds of silence. In that moment he just wanted to go back to his apartment, change into his PJs, stuff his face with some heated leftovers, and pass out on the couch.

"Really?"

_Wow, very good work hiding your excitement, you asshole._

"Yeah," Stiles nodded, looking straight ahead.

"Okay."

"Oh my god, are you serious?" he exclaimed.

Derek looked up from where he was trying to unclip the seatbelt. "Okay, let's be honest. You knew the moment you saw me, you didn't like me."

"Yes, but our mutual friends set this up, so I think we owe it to them to-"

"To what?" he interrupted him. "Spend a few hours faking small talk? Look, the best case, we get drunk and we hook up."

Stiles shifted in his seat so he sat sideways, looking straight at Derek. "What kind of an asshole are you?"

"Look, it's a Saturday night, I just wanna have some fun. I can go see my sick friend and you go do... whatever it is you like to do on a Saturday night. You look like you read. You can go read a book."

"Okay, you know what?" Stiles couldn't take it anymore. "If you wanted to ensure that this wasn't gonna be a lousy night, here's a tip - don't show up an hour late, and don't make a booty call in front of me."

"She's sick." Derek objected.

"Oh, right." Stiles could feel the anger bubbling inside of him. "Were you going to heal her with your magic penis?"

Derek stared at him, for once lost for words. "Okay. Fine, if you wanna go out, we'll go out-"

"Oh my god, no. I'm not going out with you. What are you, crazy?" he asked rhetorically as he stepped out of the jeep. "Get out of my car!" He marched back to his building. "I don't know what Boyd and Erica were thinking."

He could hear Derek murmuring behind him. "Yeah, me neither."

He took his phone out of his jeans pocket and dialed Erica. She picked up after a few rings. "Erica, oh my god," he exclaimed. "The only way you can make this up to me is if you promise I never have to see him again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cover art made with Adobe Spark app. Pictures without listed sources were part of the app’s archive.  
> Image sources: [The baby girl with a teddy bear](https://br.pinterest.com/pin/Ady85nItZpYhsHKDqSDEfvb34wZQbCRXrVYoJYHeVSXHST1Dzm2R7cI/), [Dylan O’Brien](https://cz.pinterest.com/pin/601300987722488570/), [Tyler Hoechlin](https://xitsamensworld.tumblr.com/post/175580091669/for-me-as-an-actor-one-of-the-biggest-fears-on)  
> Once again, I own nothing.


	2. The Intermezzo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is mostly to set up the story. It took me insanely long to write this, I don't even know why.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are very highly appreciated. And if you find a mistake in my language skills don't hesitate to tell me, please.

Even though Erica swore to every gaiety she could think of, Stiles knew it was impossible to avoid Derek. He was Boyd's best friend, Erica was Boyd's fiancée. 

So, of course, they saw each other again, not too long after their 'date'. Because Boyd and Erica were getting married.

Stiles was very happy for them, he really was. And he made sure to be the best best man on the planet.

Everything was absolutely perfect and as he gave his speech, he was sure nothing could go wrong.

That was until he raised his glass to a toast when Derek stumbled into the room, practically groping one of the waitresses, catching the attention of the crowd, even the newlyweds. Boyd and half the people burst out laughing and started clapping, even Erica gave a small applause but Stiles couldn't hide his disappointment that he was so easily ignored. 

And ever since, then it just kept going.

At the Christmas party, Derek started making out with a man dressed as an elf under the mistletoe in the middle of the room. But that's not what made Stiles' blood boil.

No, the reason was Derek taking the mistletoe down from the ceiling and holding it over Stiles' head. Stiles who awkwardly stood next to his date. She was a waitress from his restaurant, for god's sake! There was no way he was kissing her, not even for some stupid Christmas tradition.

But Derek still stood there, his eyebrows raised, swinging the mistletoe from side to side.

Stiles wanted to kill him right there.

When Emma was born, a little bundle of cuteness and baby powder, they were both chosen as her godfathers.

But while Stiles was almost overly careful when holding her, Derek kept bouncing her so high it almost gave the other man a heart attack.

Derek even had the guts to do the 'oh-no-I-almost-dropped-your-baby' move in front of Erica. Who slapped him right after she cuddled Emma back to her chest. So that was fun.

Yeah, Stiles could go on and on. One thing was clear - he and Derek Hale would never be more than enemies turned co-godfathers.

* * *

The most annoying thing about songs for children, aside from the fact they mainly tell you about all the noises different animals make, is that they are damn catchy. Stiles couldn't help but move his foot from side to side to the rhythm of a song blasting through speakers of Boyd's car as they drove to Emma's 1st birthday party. 

Next to him, the little girl strapped in a car seat seemed absolutely fixated on a camera held in Erica's hand, while she hummed something too quiet for them to truly hear.

Both Erica and Boyd were singing rather off-key, but they both looked so happy Stiles couldn't help but smile.

On the other side of the child seat, Derek's face looked more constipated than content. It was evident he was trying not to laugh at the performance going on in the front seats. He also looked a little sleepy, maybe even hungover, as he leaned back against the headrest, his cap covering his eyes. His mouth, which Stiles could still see, formed a little smile as the song - and Boyd and Erica with it - hit a particularly high note.

* * *

"Dude, she's gonna blow if you keep doing that," Boyd said, watching Derek lift Emma repeatedly over his head. She had two balloon strings loosely wrapped around each arm, so it looked as if she were flying away. "She's in a puking phase."

"No, she loves it," Derek lowered her onto his lap. "She loves it, don't you, Em?" He loudly kissed her cheek.

Boyd started moving the plastic garden tables, setting them on the lawn. "Why didn't Jennifer come? I thought you were getting serious?"

"No," Derek shook his head while making goofy faces at the baby girl. "We ended that a few weeks ago. It wasn't working out."

"What happened?"

He bounces Emma on his knees as she tried to reach for the balloon attached to her arm. "I don't know. I just didn't see us on that long march towards the death together."

"Oh, my bad, I thought you liked this girl."

"But that was you. I just thought she was hot."

Erica appeared in the screen door. "Honey, don't forget to tip the castle guys." She nodded towards two boys further in the back yard. They were supposed to get a giant bouncing castle ready, but for the last twenty minutes, they were just loudly shouting over each other.

Boyd crossly shook his head. "They showed up late and made me do all the work." Derek stood up, hoisting onto his hip. "But sure, let's tip the castle guys."

* * *

"So, I started taking Emma to this new family practice," Erica started as Stiles put the last box on the kitchen counter.

"Mm-hm," he absentmindedly nodded.

"There's this doctor there. He's so cute." She opened the first box, looking at the cupcakes. "Anyway, I noticed no ring..."

"Scoot over," Stiles interrupted her, bumping his hip against hers so he could take the cupcakes out.

"...so I started a conversation with his nurse."

"No."

She didn't even notice him saying anything, just opened the next box, pulling a piece of dessert roll out. "I pretended to like her nails."

"No," he frowned at her. "We agreed to a moratorium on setups."

"How do you know you won't like him?" She leaned against the counter, popping the last bite of the roll into her mouth.

"Because you have the worst setup track record ever."

"Like who?"

Stiles stilled. "The shoplifter. Adult-braces guy."

"Unbelievable," Erica moaned. "You're still holding that over me."

"That's nothing, I'm not even gonna get into the Derek Debacle of '19."

"Well, that was Boyd," she objected. "I hardly even knew him then."

"And yet you still set me up on a date with him. You're supposed to be my best friend. You can't be like those women who judge other people because they don't wear a ring."

"I'm not."

"In the meantime, you keep having gorgeous babies and I will keep spoiling them with this." He placed a giant yellow duck-shaped cake on a base part, this one chocolate that said 'Happy 1st birthday, Emma!'.

Erica hatefully looked at it. "Seriously, that's better than my wedding cake."

Stiles stopped in his tracks. "I made your wedding cake."

"It was a little dry," she shrugged.

He stuck his tongue at her.

* * *

"Don't let any fat grown-ups in while the kids are inside."

Both teenagers started chuckling as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

Boyd folded his arms over his chest. He made a terrifying picture. "Have you guys been smoking marijuana?"

One of the boys shooked his head, his long hair swinging from side to side. "That's illegal."

"You're stoned. What are you holding? Let me see it," Boyd reached his hand. "Come on, you want me to call the cops?"

"Please, don't," the kid hurriedly took out a little plastic bag from his front pocket. "My dad's a pastor."

Derek couldn't hold his laughter anymore.

"All right, I'm taking this." The dark-skinned man grabbed the bag. "Next time, you are gonna be in big trouble. Now get out of here."

"But I bought that stuff!"

Derek chuckled when the teenager looked into Boyd's eyes and then tried to make himself as small as possible. Then both of them rushed towards the gate.

"That's totally unacceptable!" Boyd called after them. Then he turned to Derek, who still had Emma tucked under his arm. "Delivery kids, they all show up stoned out of their minds. Who needs a dealer?"

"Aren't you supposed to be respectable now?" Derek asked.

"Relax," the other man sneered. "Once a year, under the right circumstances, Erica and I like to relive our misspend youth."

"Once a year, huh?" He climbed into the bouncing castle, Emma giggling at him excitedly. "Yeah, right."

"All right, maybe twice a year." Boyd looked over his shoulder from where he went back to setting up the tables. "Derek, do not bounce her too much."

"She's fine. She loves it, look at her."

And she truly did as he jumped up and down, holding her in his arms. 

"Der, I'm warning you."

He just kept going. "Come on, she's fine!" Right in that moment, he was hit in his face with Emma's former breakfast.

* * *

"Oh my god," Derek groaned as he rinsed out his mouth and washed his face in the kitchen sink.

Emma was seated in Stiles' lap at the kitchen counter.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he laughed. "You're not the first girl to throw up on Uncle Derek."

"Hey, Emma, look," he made a face as he dried his face with a kitchen towel. "Look, that's what bitter looks like."

"Derek, go up to Boyd's closet and grab something before everyone gets here," Erica told him, pouring glasses of juice.

"Why, what time is it?"

She looked at the clock. "It's 11."

"Though it's only 10 in Derek-time," Stiles proclaimed with a sneer. "You know, I'm surprised you're even up right now."

Derek looked at him, annoyance clear in his eyes. "You keep your watch on during sex, don't you?"

"At least I don't wear my baseball cap everywhere," Stiles made a face at him. "You can take it off now. We all know about the receding hairline."

"It's a widow's peak. I don't have a receding hairline," he protested.

"Hey," Erica passed both of them a champagne glass with orange juice. "Baby's birthday. Neutral corners. Take a glass." She snatched the cap from Derek's head. "First birthday, you can take your hat off for the pictures."

"Yeah," he murmured as he ran his hand through his messy hair.

"There it is," Stiles raised his glass in an imitation of a toast.

"Before everyone gets here," Erica started, "we wanted to toast Emma's two favorite people."

"And our best friends," Boyd added. "We made it through her first year with most of our sanity thanks to you guys."

"We love you, guys."

"Are you crying?" Derek asked.

Erica just shrugged. "Mothers cry."

A doorbell rang.

"Oh, thank god, the babysitter's here."

Stiles made a face. "Why do you need a babysitter? We're both here."

"Because she's genius. When Emma goes nuclear, she's the only one who can calm her down. We call her the baby whisperer."

"Oh, the baby whisperer?" Stiles kissed Emma's head while Derek asked: "Hey, is she hot?"

Boyd nodded. "Totally hot."

"What's wrong with you?" Stiles shook his head in disbelief.

"Hey, everybody, this is Allison." Erica had her arm protectively curled around an at most thirteen-year-old girl's shoulder.

"Hello, Allison," Stiles said with a smile. He could only imagine the horror on Derek's face because he stood behind him.

The girl took Emma from Stiles' lap and bounced her a few times. "Let's go get you changed, okay?"

"Thank you," Erica called after her as she left the room.

"Are you serious? That's the baby whisperer?" Stiles tilted his glass to get the last drop of the juice.

"Really, if she was old enough to have sex with Boyd, I'd be obsolete."

"You'll never be obsolete, babe," her husband kissed her on her cheek.

"Oh, my God," Stiles sighed and turned around to look at Derek. "Could you step away? You reek of baby puke."

"Oh, really?" He stepped even closer and leaned forward so the wet stain over half of his chest was right in Stiles' face.

"You do. Get away from me!" Stiles screeched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Derek doesn't wear a baseball hat, but since Tyler Hoechlin does wear one at almost every Con or event ever, I decided to leave it there.


	3. The Birthday Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rather short one. I don't think these scenes from the movie are really important, but I decided to leave them there before we get to the main part ;)

"... believe it. Did she have any tearing?"

"Oh yeah, stem to stern. They had to crack that woman open like a lobster."

Stiles couldn't help but pull a face at the story the woman seated on one of the couches was telling. He put the tray on the counter and started loading it with a new serving of chocolate muffins.

"Excuse me?"

He looked over his shoulder. The terrifying-if-you-overhear-story woman was looking straight at him.

"Excuse me, sir, are you the caterer?"

"Uhm, yes," he nervously tugged at his shirt. "Yes. And Erica's friend."

"Okay," she nodded, a stern look on her face. "Because you need to come and sit here." She pointed at the space next to her. "Okay? You need to come over here right now and sit down."

He internally shuddered, slowly sitting next to her.

"Someone is in trouble," she looked around at her friends seated on the other couch, "because you make food to die for," she addressed to Stiles.

For a second the words didn't have any meaning to him, but then he realized she just complimented his cooking. In a very unconventional way, but she did. "Oh, thank you."

* * *

"I was a real jock back in college."

"Yeah?" Derek critically looked at the man - whose name he didn't remember - standing next to him up and down. He was a little bit over-weight and didn't look sporty at all.

"Mm-hm," he nodded, drinking from the beer bottle he was holding. "A sprinter."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Ran a 4.2 40."

"Wow, that's fast."

"Yeah, it's fast," the man nodded. "How else do you think I snagged Miss Pennsylvania over here?"

A slim, blond woman appeared next to him, running a hand over the man's back. "Who's talking about me?"

"Oh, here she is." 

The man leaned forward to kiss her, but she playfully smacked him and leaned the other way. "Okay, that's good for now," she laughed. "So, who is this? Hi, I'm Beth."

"Derek."

"Nice to meet you." She gave him an appreciative once-over. "We haven't met before. I would remember this face of his," she said more to her husband than to Derek and he wasn't sure if she even meant to say it aloud.

* * *

"If you've got a loving partner, you can get through anything."

For the millionth time in the last fifteen minutes, Stiles regretted ever engaging with the idea of sitting down next to this woman. She introduced herself as Diane and she had her hand firmly laid on his thigh that warned him against standing up and leaving. If she didn't have a baby in a carrier on a sofa next to her and wasn't approximately twice his age, he would have been very worried she was trying to hit on him.

"Hey, Sam!" she shouted.

A man around her age sat up straighter on a chair where he was sitting between two little boys.

"Sam!"

Almost immediately as he heard his name being shouted, he pushed the chair back so resolutely it almost fell, and practically ran to his wife.

"I was trying to get the boys fed," he announced, almost like a soldier answering to his superior officer Stiles couldn't help but snicker, hiding behind his glass of wine. He would need a refill soon.

"Okay," Diane nodded. "I think Conner may have gotten himself into a little trouble, you know what I mean?" she gestured to the baby in the infant carrier.

"Okay, okay," the man nodded, already lifting the baby from the sofa.

"I left those diapers in the car!" she shouted when he was leaving the room. 

* * *

"We used to have sex. We used to have sex all the time, you know, everywhere."

Derek nodded absentmindedly, draining the bottle of last beer. It was already his third one, but with the conversations Erica's and Boyd's friends were making, it was fairly hard not to drink.

Right now, for example. The man has been already rambling for a good ten minutes, but Derek didn't intend to interrupt his monologue.

"Everywhere. And then the baby needs to be fed, the kids need to sleep and they have to have slept the night before or else you're exhausted."

"Hi!"

_Oh lord, I don't think I can survive more of this._

He gave a nod to the incoming man who had a baby perched on his hip.

"I'm Ted's partner, Gary," he introduced himself.

* * *

"No, I'm actually single, I'm, uhm..." Stiles was trying to think of a time when he was previously so embarrassed by his non-existent love life. "It's just me."

The woman all around him gave him pitiful glances.

"Okay, okay," Diane comforted him even though it made him feel even more anxious. "Well, you serve good meats and cheeses, I think we were all talking about that."

An appreciative murmur could be heard all around him.

"Thank you."

"That's something. I think that's good to have as a skill."

* * *

"Happy birthday, dear Emma! Happy birthday to you!"

Erica places the giant cake with burning candles in front of Emma who started clapping happily at the sight of the yellow duck covered in fondant.

Boyd was shooting the whole scene on camera, while his wife - with Emma's help, of course - blew out the candles. 

"Guys, come on, I want a picture of Emma with her godparents."

Both Stiles and Derek stepped forward and crouched on each side of Emma's high chair. 

"All right," Boyd smiled as he got the camera ready. "On three say 'Derek has a widow's peak.'"

Stiles couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"One, two,..."

Just as the 'three' was supposed to come, Stiles was hit in his face with a stuffed teddy bear.

It was going to be a charming photo.


	4. The Turn

Derek picked up his pace as he ran through the Preserve. The running track was almost empty so early in the morning, especially on the weekend when people wanted to sleep in.

When he entered into his loft, he was welcomed by a smell of freshly brewed coffee and a woman standing in his kitchen wearing his shirt.

"Hi," she said with a smile. "You wanna get a late breakfast?"

He pecked her on lips, then looked at his phone. "Can't. I got a game in an hour. And I gotta go shower."

"Are you sure about that?" she asked as she ran her hands down his torso.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He headed to the bathroom. "You already found the coffee, mugs are in the cabinet."

* * *

"Ooooh, this looks delicious." Stiles moaned as he looked at the batch of fresh chocolate-chip cookies Scott just pulled out of the oven.

He reached to snatch one of them.

"No, no, it's not ready yet!" Scott flicked his hand with a dish towel.

He rolled his eyes. "I know, I'm just taking a bite." Then he unceremoniously stuffed the whole cookie into his mouth before Scott could stop him.

"The crumb is too fine. I should have gone with Ceylon cinnamon." He pouted as they both walked from the kitchen to the front counter.

"Oh my god," Stiles groaned. "You're a genius. You are. You may be a puppy, but you!re a genius. I swear, I would eat them out of the trash."

"That's disgusting."

"I would, they're so good," Stiles argued, then abruptly stopped as he looked out of the shop window.

"Hey, Free-Range Turkey's here," the other man snicker behind him. "Where are you going? See, I knew it. You do this every time he comes in." Scott was at his heels as he strode to the counter. "I know you get excited."

"I'm just trying to be responsible," he replied curtly, then took off his beanie, ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and pushed the shop-assistant away from the counter. "I'm just gonna take over here. Thank you."

"You don't act like this even when your dad comes in," Scott pointed out from the side as a blond, muscular man walked into the shop.

"Don't be a smart-ass. Go fix your cookies."

He shrugged. "Okay."

"Hey."

Stiles turned and smiled at the man standing in front of him. "Let me guess. Free-range turkey on a baguette?"

The man chuckled. "I'm getting predictable, aren't I?"

"Well, I like to think of it as dependable. It's been thirty-five of the same sandwich."

"Hm, you're counting," his expression turned surprised.

"Ish," Stiles quickly added. "Thirty-five-ish." He walked to the display case which held most of the food they were offering in the shop. "You know, there are other things on the menu if you'd like to try something else."

The blond looked at him. "Surprise me."

"Okay. All right, great," he nodded and looked at all the baked goods. "Do you like croissants?"

"I do, yeah," the other man nodded.

"Good, then I've got just the thing." Stiles took two croissants with blueberry and vanilla filling and turned to put them into a bag.

"How come you don't wear one of those little tags with your name on it?" Stiles hastily turned back to see the man look at him with a smile on his face. He looked so damn good Stiles wanted to die. "So I'd know what it is."

"It's Stiles," he smiled in return.

"Stiles. I'm Jordan," he reached over the counter to shake his hand.

"Nice to meet you."

"We met thirty-five sandwiches ago," Jordan remarked.

"Well, thirty-six now. Though not a sandwich this time," he turned back to where he was packing the croissants.

Jordan reached out to take the bag, giving Stiles money in return. "Thanks. Keep the change."

"Oh, thanks." He didn't want the conversation to be cut short. "Sure you don't wanna throw your card in the bowl?" He gestured towards the large glass container. "Winner gets a free lunch."

The other man took a second to consider the offer, then reached into his briefcase, pulled out a business card, and dropped it into the bowl, all while looking directly into Stiles' eyes. "How about a free dinner on me?"

Stiles knew he was blushing as Jordan turned again towards the door. Stiles almost reached towards the bowl, but he could suddenly hear Scott next to his ear. "No! Be cool. Let him get out the door." They both watched as the blond walked through the door and crossed the street. "And, go!"

"Okay," Stiles dragged the bowl closer and reached for the business card, but just as he reached it, it fell into the clutter of other cards. "Oh no. Which one was it?" He pulled a stack of cards out of the container. "Okay, that's a Benjamin. Oh, there's a Jordan!" He put the one to a separate pile. "Shit, how many Jordans can be in this city?"

* * *

" _ And the Beacon Hills Wolves are trying to work it out over the other side. _ "

"Come on, people, let's bump up the energy."

Derek winced and reached to lower the volume of his boss' voice in his headset.

"It's an exciting game here. Come on."

He rolled his eyes. The basketball game going on the screen in the front of the room was anything but exciting.

"Go, seven."

Reaching across the desk he switched the small lever to connect the camera number seven.

"Isaac, I need shooting percentages," the boss shouted across the room, addressing to a man right next to Derek. "Ready, eight. Let's zoom in on eight. More, more, more. Yep, right there. Go, eight." He strolled between Derek's desk and the one in front of him. "Ready two. And go two. Ready six. Where's my six?"

Derek focused on the screen. "Hold on, the Wolves are about to press. We should stay in the backcourt." Just as he finished telling it, one of the Wolves' players snatched the ball from the opponent, ran to the hoop and scored, right in the current camera's point of view.

"Good call, Derek," the other man remarked. "Isaac, I asked for shooting percentages. Let's go. You're too ugly not to be smarter."

"I hate him so much," Isaac muttered towards Derek who started laughing quietly. "I wanna frame somebody's murder on him, you know? Fingerprints, scene of the crime. Can't be that hard if I'm as smart as he says I am."

"What's that, Isaac?" the boss turned back to them.

Isaac grinned at him, all white teeth and fake politeness. "Shooting percentages coming up, sir."

* * *

Stiles dropped on the couch exhaustedly, turning on the sports channel on the television for some background noise.

On the coffee table was a pile of three business cards he took home from work.

He reached for his phone and dialed the first number. There was no reason to postpone this.

"Hi, Jordan," he breathed as the dialing noise stopped. "This is Stiles Stilinski from Fraiche." He fell on the couch so he was lying on it, his legs hoisted on the backrest. "I think you left your card in my bowl today for the free lunch. I hope you did, because you're one of four Jordans who did this week. And if it is you and you asked me out, I accept." His free hand made a jazz-hand gesture which of course the person on the phone couldn't see. "If it's-"

"Hello?" sounded a woman's voice.

Stiles paused in surprise. "Uhm, hello?"

"Why are you calling my husband?"

He could feel his face turning red. "Right, you're his wife. Of course."

"We're very happily married."

"I understand that you're happily married. I, I, really, I didn't mean anything by it. I'm so sorry. Okay. You take care. I'm sorry."

He could hear the woman taking a breath to scream at him, but hung up before she could get a single word out. "Oh god." He exhaled and buried his head into a pillow.

He gave himself a minute to calm down and grasped another one of the cards.

This time he tried a different tactic.

"Hi, Jordan?" he asked instead of rattle off the same speech.

"Yes, this is Jordanna."

His eyebrows shot up.  _ Who the hell names their kid Jordanna? _ "Oh, it's a Jordanna. I'm sorry, I have the wrong number-"

"Maybe not," the woman's seductive voice shivered him to the core. "You single?"

"I am single, yes. But I'm also gay, so no luck here, sorry."

He ended the call, again.

He threw one arm across his face and blindly, reaching out for another card.

He cleared his throat. This time the voice went into the voicemail. Stiles could only pray that this was the right person and not another 'happily married' guy. "Hi, Jordan Parrish. Doctor Jordan Parrish. This is Stiles Stilinski from Fraiche and I am really hoping that you're the Jordan I talked to today. If not, I'm screwed because you're the last Jordan who put his card in the bowl for a free lunch." He chuckled nervously, but was suddenly interrupted by a sound of another incoming call. "I'm sorry. Call waiting. Bye." He finished the recording and pressed a button to answer the waiting call. "Hello?"

_ "Hi, am I speaking to Mr. Stilinski?" _

"Yes, that's me."

And then the world just collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like the idea of Parrish being a doctor, but I had to change his profession for the sake of the story. For those of you who might get scared - don't worry, this is still Sterek endgame.
> 
> Also, the woman's character is absolutely not important, she doesn't even have a name. She's just there to show how many people Derek dates/sleeps with. Not my idea, I'm sticking to the movie plot.


	5. The Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So life got little in the way (read school and exams got in the way) so this took way longer than I'd like. But I finally finished another chapter! Yay!

Stiles' heart was racing as he parked in front of the precinct. Before he even stopped the car, he was running to the entrance

"Dad?" he threw the front doorway open.

Tara, who sat at the reception desk, looked up at him. "He's in his office."

Stiles nodded, not bothering with answering, already marching towards the Sheriff's door.

"Dad!"

His father turned towards him. "Stiles..." he wrapped him in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, son. I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"What happened?" Stiles sobbed through the tears.

The sheriff shook his head, Stiles more feeling the gesture than seeing it. "We're not really sure. Two of the deputies found their car. It was completely trashed, flipped onto the roof. They called the ambulance, but it was already too late."

Stiles exhaled, shaken, and leaned more onto his father's shoulders.

"Do you want to sit down?"

"No," he whispered, the word coming out of his mouth as a weak creak. "What about Emma? Was she in the car? Was she in the car with them?"

"No." He was praying so hard to hear this answer and afterward he just sagged in relief and started crying even harder. "They left her home with a babysitter. Just a couple of minutes ago the deputies went to pick her up. They're gonna take her to CPS for the night. But she's perfectly fine."

"CPS?" He pulled back. Even though Stiles was sure he's heard about it, he couldn't recall what the acronym stood for.

"Child Protective Service," his dad explained. "They take care of cases like this." 

All the words resonated in Stiles' head without any meaning. "Cases like this?"

"Orphaned children."

* * *

Stiles sat on the couch in his father's office, squeezing the hot mug of tea in his hands, when he saw Derek burst into the precinct.

Stiles got up from his place on the sofa, placed the cup on a side table, going to the front. 

Derek looked horrible - his hair was dishevelled, his eyes red-rimmed.

"Derek," he said just as the other man was about to start questioning Tara.

He looked at him desperately, some kind of hope clear in his eyes. 

But Stiles just shook his head.

Derek shut his eyes in agony, stray tears running down his cheeks.

Stiles knew they've never done this, but he embraced him tightly, tucking his head into the other man's neck. Derek didn't even stiffen, he just let out a hitched cry.

* * *

They drove in silence to Erica and Boyd's house. They took the jeep, because Derek had somehow remembered Stiles wouldn't get into his car, and none of them was in the mood for an argument.

Stiles let them in with a spare key.

The whole house was dark and too empty. But the way a laundry basket was overflowing with clothes and an uneaten rest of Emma's snack was laying on the kitchen table, it all looked as if Erica and Boyd would soon come home.

But they never will.

"Uhm, dad said they won't let us see Emma before tomorrow. But the lawyer will come here in the morning, so I thought we could sleep here tonight."

"Okay." Derek agreed quietly. "Why don't you take the guest bedroom?"

"Yeah. You can take their room if you want."

He immediately shook his head. "No, thank you. I'll sleep over here," he gestured to the couch.

Stiles nodded. "Okay. See you in the morning."

"Yeah." Derek lowered himself onto the couch, pulling a yellow plush duck from behind the pillow and clutching it to his chest as he settled down for sleep.

* * *

"I'm sure this is a very difficult time for you, obviously," the lawyer stated. "Everyone at the firm, we will miss Vernon very much. Now, you must have many questions."

Stiles resolutely agreed. "Well, Emma. I think that's who we're both thinking of." He could see Derek in the corner of his eye, nodding affirmatively.

"Yes."

"What will happen to her now?"

"Okay, well," the man, who had introduced himself as Mr. Māhealani, looked at the papers lined in front of him. "I have already arranged for her transfer. The foster family she was with will bring her to CPS. They feel she'll adjust the best in her own environment. So first, she needs to be picked up and brought here."

"Okay, and who does that?" Derek questioned. 

The lawyer gave both of them a strange look. "I'm sorry," he said with a half-smile, "did Erica and Vernon talk to you about their guardianship arrangements?"

Derek and Stiles looked at each other - Derek's eyebrows were comically high on his forehead while Stiles sure his eyes were wide in surprise. "No," they both answered at the same time.

"Uhm, well, in preparing their will, we talked about who would take care of Emma in the unlikely event that they should both die and they - they named you," he gestured towards them. "Both of you."

Silence.

"I'm sorry," they both leaned forward, their elbows resting on the table.

"They picked us together?"

"Did they really say that?"

Mr. Māhealani's face turned sympathetic. "I'm sure this isn't exactly how you wanted to start a family."

Stiles raised his hand. "There's been a misunderstanding, we are not married."

"No," Derek resolutely shook his head. Stiles couldn't even be mad at the disgust in his eyes. "They tried to set us up on a blind date and we never made it to the restaurant."

"Yeah, it didn't go well. I don't even know if you'd call it a date. He was such a dick."

"He's not really my type."

They started talking over each other, their voices getting louder and louder.

"I know this is overwhelming, okay?" the man at the other side of the table exclaimed. "And believe me, I tried to advise them against it. But there are options. You can say no. Because this a big deal." The tone of his voice calmed. "This is a child. Big commitment."

* * *

Stiles practically tore the backyard door open as he rushed out of the house.

"Oh my God," he breathed out, running a hand through his hair. "Oh my God, Oh my God." 

He could feel himself hyperventilating.

* * *

Derek sat on the front stairs, holding his head in his hands in panic.

_ How could Boyd and Erica possibly do this? _

* * *

After a couple of minutes - or more precisely quarter an hour - they came back to sit at the table.

"Options," Derek stated as he sat down on the chair with a loud thud. "You mentioned that there were some other options?"

"Yes. We have Vernon's grandmother."

"oh, perfect. She'd be perfect, I think."

Stiles stared at him with his mouth hanging wide open. Boyd's grandma was almost a hundred years old, there was no way she could take care of a toddler.

"There's also some cousins."

"I'm sorry, can I stop you there?" Stiles interrupted. "What if one of us, on our own, by ourselves chose to honor Erica and Boyd's wishes on our own?"

"Or both of us. Hypothetically," Derek added quickly.

"Well, they named you, so I just set up a court hearing to grant you temporary custody and that's it." The man scribbled something into his papers. "Now, the finances. The estate will cover the mortgage, but that's about it. They didn't have much in savings. They bought this house as an investment. But you know, let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay? Let's just focus on Emma."

Both men nodded.

"So, I suggest the two of you move in here in the interim."

Stiles gaped at him. "You want us to live together?"

He nodded. "For Emma, for now. Until you decide what you wanna do. But it's the best."

* * *

The CPC center was full of kids of different ages but Stiles' eyes searched for Emma.

He and Derek both signed all of the release forms and now they were just waiting for one of the workers who would bring them the little girl.

As soon as the door slid open he rushed forward. He didn't notice how but suddenly he had Emma in his arms.

She was clutching his biceps and had her eyes puffy red. She must had been so confused.

"Hi, sweet girl," he whispered into her hair, leaving little kisses all over her head. "oh, honey, it's so good to see you. I know, I know." he turned around to see Derek standing there, his eyes focused on Emma. "Hey, look, there's uncle Derek. You want uncle Derek?" He passed the toddler to him. She immediately buried her head into Derek's neck.

Their eyes connected over her head.

"We should get her home," Stiles whispered.


	6. The First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaaack :) I didn't realize it's been almost two weeks since I posted the last chapter.

"They definitely didn't think this through," Derek stated as he passed Emma's baby bed where the little girl was peacefully sleeping.

"We need to establish a sleep schedule," Stiles didn't turn to him from where he was sitting on the couch, his eyes focused on the notebook in his lap. "It's very important."

Derek squinted as he put one of the beer bottles he was carrying on the coffee table. "What?"

"I guess," he signed, then suddenly sat straighter. "What? What did you say?"

"I said they didn't think this through," the other man gestured to the dozing girl and the house. "Did Boyd say anything to you? Or Erica?" he asked as he heavily took a seat opposite of Stiles. "'Cause they didn't tell me anything."

Stiles shook his head. "Nope."

"This is not the kind of thing you just forget to mention!" he almost shouted. "'Hey, Derek, did you see that game last night? The last few seconds were really gripping, oh, and by the way, if I die, I'm gonna leave you with my kid.'"

"Look," Stiles put his notebook onto the coffee table. "I'm not saying this is ideal."

"Ideal? No, this is completely messed up!" Derek took a swig from his beer. "Are we supposed to live in this house together? Share the place, both sleep-deprived? Because that sounds like a compelling psych experiment." Stiles chuckled under his breath. "Assuming you and I can even afford to pay for this place."

"Danny already said the mortgage is covered."

"Well and what about the upkeep? Or the utilities or the taxes? Do you have any idea what the nut on this is a month?" Derek went on. "Boyd was a junior partner at a law firm. I don'!t make this kind of cash. And what do you do? You bake sconed for a living?"

Stiles shot him a look. "I run a successful business, Derek. And I do pretty well, thank you very much."

"Yeah? Well, running a baby is not like running a bakery."

"I didn't say it was."

"They're a mess. They pee on things. They bite. They're basically dogs. Except at least a dog knows not to lick the electrical sockets."

Stiles started to laugh, but Emma's crying soon brought his attention to her. "Oh, she's up," he all but darted from the couch, tripping on his own leg in the process.

Derek moaned silently and got up in a much more collected way.

When they reached the baby bed, Emma was standing, gripping the bars and sobbing, her facing getting sticky with all the drying tears. 

"Okay, honey, Hey, hi," Stiles cooed at her. 

"Look at you, sleepyhead." Derek's smile was apparent in his voice. "Here we go," he reached to lift the toddler up, but Stiles smacked his arm.

"No, no, don't pick her up."

"Why?" Derek stared at him in disbelief.

"Because she needs to learn how to self soothe. It's very important. Or so I've read."

He stared harder. "She needs to what?"

"Self-soothe. Soothe herself," Stiles explained, flailing his arms all around himself. !I just read it, Derek. It's important. Let's just give it a minute."

"Okay," he nodded, not really wanting to argue with Stiles. He was way too tired for that. "But I don't think that's gonna work when we're standing right in front of her," he muttered under his breath.

Stiles looked as if he didn't hear him. "Everything's okay, happy girl. You know what? Let' just sing a song. We'll sing a song. Uhm, well, the wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round," he burst into the song, clapping his hands in the rhythm of it. Emma clearly wasn't impressed with his performance, and neither was Derek, who gaped at the other man in horror.

".. all through the town." Stiles finished the first part and was inhaling to keep going, but he stopped, looking at Derek in question. "Do you have any idea what the next words are? 'Cause I think I forgot," he whispered.

Derek slowly shook his head, his mouth still hanging open.

"You know what? Maybe she's hungry. I think she's hungry. I'm gonna feed her," Stiles chattered as he took the girl out of the bed and marched towards the kitchen. "Come on, let's go eat."

"I thought we weren't picking her up!" Derek called at his retreating back. When the younger man didn't react, he downed his beer.

Living with Stiles was definitely not going to be easy.

* * *

Sitting in the high chair with the promise of food didn't help to soothe Emma's cries at all.

"Okay, Emma. I'm almost done, hold on," Stiles talked to her over the sound of the mixer where he was preparing carrot and apple sauce.

"She's not a food critic. She's a one-year-old," Derek declared from where he was leaning against the kitchen counter.

"I know that, but I'm not gonna feed ger just anything."

"Don't worry, Emma," Derek addressed to the still sobbing girl. "We're gonna feed you sometime today. I promise. Hopefully before you turn two."

If Stiles' look could kill, he would certainly be dead. "Shut up," he growled while he tugged at the handle of the silverware drawer. "How the hell do you open this thing?"

"It has a child safety lock."

He finally wrestled the drawer open.

"Oh, there it is," Derek exclaimed, his voice full of fake excitement.

Stiles frowned at him, holding an orange plastic spoon as if he could murder him with it. Derek just raised his eyebrows.

"Why are you trying so hard to convince me not to help her?" he asked as he scooped the orange sauce from the mixer into a small bowl.

"I'm not trying to do that. I'm just trying to do what's best for her."

"I'm also trying to do what's best for her," Stiles objected.

"And you know what? We're not it!" he shouted.

Stiles loudly dropped the bowl onto the counter. "They loved Emma more than anything in the entire world and out of everyone, Derek, they picked us," he gazed directly into the other man's eyes. "They picked us." He sighed and turned to the girl, a small smile on his face. "I'm coming, baby girl. Check this out. I think you're gonna love it. Taste sensation." He dramatically spooned a little of the puree. "Ready?"

When he tried to get the spoon anywhere near her mouth, she kept on turn her head away so all of the sauce ended on her face.

"No? Come on, just try it, Em. Just try it," he pleaded. But she just started to cry again and harder than before. "Come on, I've seen you eat things like this."

Stiles just kept trying. 

When the spoon finally got into her mouth, he was about to triumphantly leap from the chair he was sitting on, but a moment later, he was hit in his face with the sauce he forced into Emma's mouth.

He sat still, staring at her, as she turned her eyes to Derek, who poured some corn puffs onto the tray in front of her.

Stiles just watched in shame as she took one of the puffs and happily started eating it.

"You honestly think we're the best thing for her?" Derek said into the silence.


	7. The Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles are looking for someone who'd take Emma.

"Well, it was a beautiful service. I didn't know that's how they met."

"Oh, and that story about Paris?"

The group of Erica and Boyd's former neighbors stood close to the catering table, holding their plates and chatting quietly.

"What's gonna happen with the baby? Do we know?"

Diane waved her hand dramatically. "You didn't hear?"

"No."

"They named one of their friends. The single boy who bakes."

"And the super-hot one that always smells like, so good and sweaty," Ted added. "That guy."

"That's interesting."

* * *

"Melissa, thank you for being here, I couldn't have done it without you," Stiles smiled wearily at his best friend's mother. She had Emma seated on her lap, reading a children's book.

"You're welcome."

"Mind watching her for another minute? I gotta talk to Derek."

"Sure, okay. Your father said he'd bring us some of the delicious food, right little one?" she asked Emma, but the little girl was squirming, clearly uncomfortable in her dark grey dress.

"Thanks." He gestured for Derek to go with him. "There's a lot of them."

He nodded. "We just need to find one."

* * *

"So, I understand you're Vernon's second cousins?" Derek asked the married pair nonchalantly.

"Hey, don't climb that!" the man shouted at a five-year-old boy trying to scramble up the banister. "Who's that, Tyler?"

"Mason," his wife quietly corrected him.

"Mason, take a seat right now. Let's go." He turned to Derek. "Eight kids," he sighed.

"Eight kids? You guys have eight kids?"

"Nine, dear," the woman corrected him once again, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Nine, right. Baseball team."

* * *

"I had to come, for Erica."

Stiles nodded, smiling softly at the dark-haired woman. "Yeah, thank you."

"And I was on tour through California, so..." she shrugged.

"Oh, on tour. Are you performing anywhere that I would know?"

"I'm dancing at Juggles tonight and then Bush League Thursday through Monday."

"Oh, how exciting. That's really exciting. Yeah." His eyes were already scanning the room for the next subject for his interrogation.

* * *

Stiles sat at the end of the couch next to Derek, Emma resting on the carpet, her back against his shins as she toyed with his shoelaces. "It's really good for Emma to get to see her grandfather."

"She looks just like Vernon," the man on the other couch gave them a small smile.

"I think she looks just like you," Derek stated.

"So, you have a house in Miami now?" Stiles asked, incessantly watching Emma as she crawled forward.

The man inhaled to speak but Derek beat him to it.

"Yeah, because we, you know, were hoping, given that Emma is your only grandchild, that-" he looked at Stiles who nodded encouragingly. "Well, it seems to make the most sense that you'd be-"

His words were cut short by a wheezing sound and Emma's excited squeal. Both her hands were firmly gripping onto the narrow plastic tube her grandfather needed to help him with his breathing. 

"Oh, God!"

Both Stiles and Derek immediately rushed for them, Derek pulling the little girl to him while Stiles struggled to get the tube to the man's nostrils. 

"I'm so sorry," he muttered. "You okay?" Emma's grandfather nodded. "Fine. Good as new!"

"Still breathing!" Derek waved the girl's hands in celebration.

"Yay!" Stiles mirrored the gesture with his own hands.

* * *

"Well, we could go with the nine-kids family," Derek said as he handed Stiles a beer. "I mean, they clearly know how to keep a child alive."

They both had lost their ties, jackets, and shoes, lying spread out on a sofa.

"The stripper seemed nice."

Stiles was silent, staring at the wall. He could feel Derek's gaze on him, but when he didn't say anything, the other man just sighed. 

"Yeah." He took a sip. "And the grandpa's a definite no?"

Stiles nodded.

"We're screwed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think it's been that long since I had watched this movie, but I guess I never paid enough attention to that scene, because the stripper/exotic dancer in this scene is portrayed by Melissa Ponzio or as we all know her Melissa McCall. For some reason, I find it very interesting and needed to tell someone about it. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/zenawa). It's basically Sterek madness in there.


End file.
